Treating Her Curses, Healing His Soul
by LadyWillow
Summary: Compliant to OotP. When Harry, Ron and Hermione are in their 7th year at Hogwarts, what will happen when a strange and unknown hex makes Hermione turn to the most unexpected source for help? It may be more than she bargained for! SSHG romance. CHAP 5!
1. Chapter One

"Incorrect again, Mr

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or anything having to do with Harry Potter. It all belongs to JK Rowling (unfortunately).

**Notes:** Compliant up to OotP, but then becomes AU in the fact that Harry, Ron and Hermione are in their 7th year and still at Hogwarts. Dumbledore and Snape are still there too, and if there are hoarcruxes, Harry certainly hasn't ever heard of them.

**Rating:** Will be S-MA at some point, although not for a little while yet.

**Treating Her Curses, Healing His Soul**

Started 8-18-2007

By LadyWillow

"Incorrect again, Mr. Weasley. I think, perhaps, another ten points from Gryffindor may help to bring home inside of that woefully inept brain of yours that you do not mix the extract of gillyweed with the current infusion for your Pepper-Up Potion. Unless, of course, it was your intention to cause an explosion large enough to consume and destroy both yourself and the student so unfortunate as to be seated next to you? Star-crossed lovers you and Miss Granger may be, Mr. Weasley, but that is neither reason, nor justification to take both of your lives in such a dramatic fashion."

Professor Severus Snape paused for a moment, casting his eyes ominously around the classroom for a brief spell, before continuing.

"I believe that pitching yourselves from the Astronomy Tower may be more the style and flair you are looking for."

His eyes settled on the sputtering, red-faced Gryffindor Ronald Weasley just long enough to give him a disgusted sneer, and then his gaze shifted to land on the student to his left.

Hermione Granger, Muggle-born Gryffindor, and best friend to "Enemy Number One" on Professor Snape's personal list. Oh, there were so many reasons to loathe Harry Potter. Too many, really. Sometimes, even when he was dwelling and brooding in his quarters before retiring to bed for the evening, his mind would begin to wander down the well-worn path that he valiantly kept it from all day long. And, exhausted from forcing his mind into distraction, he would relent, and think all of the painful thoughts, feel all of the old hurt, all the regrets. He would indulge himself, for a time, with fanciful "what-ifs", and sometimes, if he was particularly weak, he would pretend. In his most gifted and profoundly developed imagination, he would place himself in paradise, where none of his mistakes existed, and everything was, in his opinion, just as it would have been.

But sometimes, just sometimes, when he would let these thoughts come, he would be startled to find himself unable to justify his extreme hatred of Harry Potter, "The Boy Who Lived to Annoy". Instead, he would think about Her, and he would almost be able to hear Her voice speaking to him. But the words were never right, never what he wanted to hear, even though it was his fantasy, in his mind.

"_Protect him, Sev. Please, for me, help him."_

And sometimes, when he had the strength the refuse, to try to reason with Her (as if he thought it would ever come out differently), she would grow more desperate.

"_Let go of the past, Severus Snape! He is my son! Part of me!"_

And then, those words that made him weep upon hearing them:

"_If you really loved me, Severus, you would not hate my son. You would help him survive!"_

By this time, his carefully constructed fantasy world would be crumbling around him, and with an anguished wail he would return to reality, with Her voice ringing in his ears the mantra that would haunt him in his nightmares for several nights to come.

"_I died for him… I died for him…"_

Shaken back to the present, all musings and memories aside, he continued to look at the student before him.

Hermione Granger. Bright, clever, precocious Gryffindor Head Girl "please-stab-me-with-a-dinner-fork-to-escape" Hermione Jane Granger.

In so many ways she was unnerving to him. The most prominent reason being several startling likenesses that she bore to Her, the woman who, even in death, continued to haunt both his conscious and unconscious mind.

Her undeniable brilliance and voracious thirst for knowledge endeared her to Severus Snape in a way that frightened him to nearly the end of his sanity. Also not to be forgotten was the fact that her patterns of thought, evidenced by the scores of essays and papers of hers that he had read and graded over the years, were remarkably similar to his own. Her logical reasoning, her attention to and affinity for details, yes she was quite smart. Possibly the smartest witch currently in the student body.

And oh, how he hated it.

Her exceptional qualities made it unbearably difficult, nearly impossible, to loathe and despite her very state of existence based completely on the fact that she was:

Friends with Harry Potter, the "Witless Wonder,"

A Gryffindor.

The trouble was, Severus supposed, mostly that while she certainly displayed several characteristics of her House, he could easily see just as many, if not more characteristics of his own House within her. It had not escaped his notice, in fact, that it was quite likely that she would have been placed in Slytherin if she was only at least half-blood like himself, instead of muggle-born.

How curious to think about. How would things have turned out over the last several years if Hermione Granger had in fact been sorted into Slytherin instead?

But now was not the time to ponder such things, and besides, what did he care what house that irritating know-it-all was or was not sorted into? It was certainly of no consequence to him.

Certainly not!

Turning his attention away from the two embarrassed students with a smug, dangerous smirk, he cast his gaze about the room once more, as if silently daring any other students to blunder as badly as Ron Weasley just had.

"Silence!" he spoke, his voice low and frightening. The soft snickers and muttered jeers from the students seated in the Slytherin section of the classroom immediately went mute.

"Now then, if we can all recall how one executes the most dramatically difficult skills of both _reading_ and _following directions_…"

XXXXXX

An hour later, the room full of students was slowly thinning out as they filed to Professor Snape's desk, placed their finished potion (and prayers for at least passing grades) into the receptacle, then pushed out the door and into the halls, eager to escape the dungeons as soon as they possibly could.

Severus Snape sat calmly behind his desk, hands folded in his lap and a carefully-schooled expression of indifferent boredom etched on his features.

He made a point of catching the eyes of each student as they approached his desk, and delighted in the terror their eyes displayed before they hastily looked elsewhere.

In fact, only one student held his gaze.

Hermione Granger, of course.

The fact both delighted and infuriated him in equal measures.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" he murmured most dangerously. His ire rose when she did not even seem to falter. Instead, she continued to approach, placed her potion in the rack, and then simply stepped off to the side to allow the other students to file past, clearly waiting until they were the only two who remained before addressing him.

The two imbecile friends of hers, Potter and Weasley, stood at the door and motioned for her to join them with an urgency one would usually reserve for trying to coax someone away from the den of a ravenous, man-eating beast, and he was slightly baffled by the swell of… happiness? That flooded his chest when she rolled her eyes in a most exasperated manner, shook her head, and made an irritated shoo-ing motion at them with her hands. Although looking rather skeptical, they left, and her posture relaxed greatly.

The last student scuttled out the door, and Professor Snape turned in his chair to look directly at the Gryffindor student who was keeping him from his afternoon break.

"Well Miss Granger, to what do I owe the _pleasure_," his nose turned up and his lip curled at the word, "of your continued presence in my classroom?"

An eyebrow arched, and she folded her hands behind her back, than took a measured step forward.

"Professor, I greatly need your help," she stated, continuing to hold his gaze despite her growing apprehension.

"My help? I am afraid, Miss Granger, that you have been misinformed. Contrary to popular belief, I am neither well-versed nor qualified in the field of psychology and mental health. However, I am certain that Madam Pomfrey would be more than willing to point you in the right direction." His eyebrows rose, and he watched as her face reddened with frustration.

"Must you always be so cruel?" she ground out from between her clenched teeth, and all traces of amusement left his face at once.

"Cruel?" He stood, almost gliding across the floor until he was standing before her, looking down his nose into her eyes angrily.

"You, Miss Granger, know _**nothing**_ of cruelty." He hissed, and Hermione struggled to keep from shrinking back.

"Please, Professor. I don't like asking this of you any more than you do, but I have no other choice!"

Letting out an impatient sigh, he crossed his arms over his chest and gave her one curt nod, clearly displeased. "What is it, then?" he growled, and for a moment she looked surprised, then recovered and began to speak.

Squaring her shoulders as if she was about to face off against You-Know-Who himself, she looked directly into his eyes.

"Professor, this morning Draco Malfoy came upon me, and after he got tired of simply calling me a "Mudblood" and describing all of the horrible things that will happen to me when You-Know-Who finally comes to power, he hexed me, and-"

"Enough, Miss Granger. I was not aware that, as Head of Slytherin, I would be required to listen to every little complaint someone has when they begin to discover that life is, in fact, quite unfair. Furthermore-"

He was quite rudely cut off, however, when Hermione took a frantic step forward.

"Look at what he _did_ to me!" she cried, interrupting the Potions Master (much to his surprise), and in one quick flash of movement, pulling open both the front of her robes and the white dress shirt beneath.

The vehement protest of Hermione's actions died on the stunned professor's lips as he stared in absolute shock at his student's midsection.

However, it was not her firm young breasts covered by both a practical white bra and her Gryffindor tie that had him staring. Instead, it was the black, charred-looking mark that consumed almost all visible skin, from below her breasts to just above where her skirt began.

The flesh looked disturbingly damaged, parts appeared puckered and bubbled as if her skin had actually begun boiling and melting away.

For several moments, the only sound in the room was Hermione's fast-paced, labored breathing, no doubt from her temporary loss of control over her anger. And then, "When did this happen?" he demanded, voice rough and urgent.

"I already told you, this morn-"

"Where?" he cut her off, eyes still trained on her middle.

"Outside the owlery."

His gaze snapped up to catch hers.

"And what where you doing there?"

"Oh, I don't know, looking for the Lost City of Atlantis? What do you _think _I was doing? I was sending an owl!"

"To whom?" he ignored her sarcasm, quite a feat to be honest.

"My parents."

"Why?"

"That is none of your business!"

"What hex did he use?"

She faltered. "I don't know. I've never heard of it or seen it before." She admitted, which was an equally remarkable feat.

At last he began to relent.

"Why didn't you go to Madam Pomfrey, or McGonagall, or even the blasted Headmaster?" he demanded, looking like he might be about to start shouting again.

"Because I tried some healing spells and they only made it worse. I figured that it was Dark Magic, and probably cursed, and you-"

"You thought that, given my past, and my current… activities within the Order, I would be best informed and knowledgeable about what must be done to heal your rather… substantial wound."

She looked up at him silently for a moment, than nodded cautiously.

"Of course." He grumbled, and then gestured to the intricately carved wing-backed chair. Hermione faltered just a moment, then lowered herself into it with a barely perceptible wince of pain.

"What possessed you to wait until after class to speak to me about this?" he questioned as he knelt before her, his robes billowing briefly before settling around his legs and feet.

"Oh yes, Professor, because you would have been _so_ receptive to _that_." Hermione hissed, clutching at the arms of the chair, knuckles white from the strength of her grip as Severus Snape probed her scorched flesh with several of his long, dexterous fingers.

"Miss Granger, describe the look of the hex as it left Mr. Malfoy's wand." He commanded, rocking back on his heels and meeting her gaze evenly with his own.

Hermione could see, however, the concern in his eyes that he was trying so desperately to hide, and she felt a momentary flush of warmth rush through her.

"It… it was green… a blue-green, and looked like a furry bolt of lightning… kind of…"

He looked at her in silence for just a moment, then abruptly stood and dusted off his robes.

"As I suspected." He muttered, more to himself than to Hermione. "Well then, I shall have to brew you a potion."

Hermione began pulling her shirt closed, looking much less concerned. "Great, and then I'll be back to normal?" she asked, glancing at him briefly before looking back down at her shirt as she carefully worked each button.

"Not quite."

She froze.

"What do you _mean_, 'not quite'?"

"The potion will need to be administered nightly for seven days in order to heal the wound, and it must be freshly brewed each time. Which means, unfortunately, that for the next week your evenings will be spent here in the dungeons with me. I'm sure I shall find a way to manage, somehow."

The look of distaste on his face brought a rush of color to hers.

"And what if I won't take the potion? What if I decide not to come?" she demanded, putting her hands to her hips despite the pain it caused her.

He shrugged noncommittally. "It will continue to spread, eventually consuming your entire body, from your toes to your ridiculously bushy hair." He paused, meeting her gaze, and in a much more serious tone continued. "And eventually, it will overwhelm your body, and kill you."

Hermione stared at him, horrified.

"Now then, if you would follow me, we shall get started."

"We?"

He began to walk toward the classroom door as he spoke. "Oh yes, Miss Granger. You see, the ingredients for this potion are quite valuable. You will be making it worth my while to provide it for you. I believe I have a series of tasks involving the stored potions and their fading labels that might just be worth the cost of tonight's dose."

Professor Snape looked over his shoulder then, anticipating the student's look of irritation, perhaps even indignance, and so was stunned to see her tearful instead. Her head was lowered, but he could still make out the moisture on her cheeks, and of course, the sniffles were unmistakable.

"For Heaven's sake girl, what is it now?" He'd stopped walking, and she looked up at him, cheeks pink and lips quivering.

"I'm suh-sorry, Professor… but cuh-could you maybe give me something for the pain?" she whimpered, and somehow, with just those simple words, Hermione Jane Granger had made Severus Snape feel like the biggest ass on the face of the earth, wizard or otherwise.

He turned fully and looked down at her, this time doing nothing to hide his worry, and nodded sharply.

"Of course, how careless of me," he said simply, no bite or venom to the words, just a weariness that the practiced listener would recognize as the closest one would come to extracting an apology from him. "Come along, I have something in the lab that should work perfectly."

Hermione nodded and began to follow him once again; her steps slow and measured to, hopefully, reduce some of the pain she was currently experiencing.

Several minutes later, Professor Snape was lowering the protective wards on the door to his private lab and ushering her inside, before shutting and locking the door behind them.

"Please sit down, Miss Granger," he invited, voice low.

She complied, letting out an audible sigh of relief upon doing so, and she watched with weary eyes as he moved gracefully to a cabinet against the far wall of the room and opened up the great oak doors. Inside were more potions than Hermione had ever seen before, and she stared in awe as Severus looked through the various bottles, then pulled one out, looked at it carefully, then pulled the cork out of the top and smelled it before nodding to himself.

Then, he was striding back across the room, and when he reached her side again, he grabbed a goblet from the nearest table, poured some of the potion inside, and offered it to her with a very small smirk.

"This should numb any pain you are feeling quite effectively." He stated, and Hermione didn't even falter or pause. She simply took the proffered goblet, brought it to her lips, and drank it down in one long gulp.

When she lowered the goblet a moment or two later, there was a look of distaste on her face, and Severus failed to hold back a low chuckle.

"It may taste unpleasant, Miss Granger, but I assure you, it will certainly get the job done. Now then, while you wait for the potion to take effect, I am going to begin the long task of preparing your Curing Drought."

Hermione simply nodded, her head beginning to feel light as she watched her Professor stalk across the room and begin to pull various ingredients from the shelves with the utmost reverence and care.

The potion, Hermione concluded, that she had just drank down apparently had a slightly narcotic effect, as she could feel a strange tingling sensation beginning to flood her system slowly.

Her tongue felt like lead inside her mouth, but she still managed to speak, obviously her lips and thoughts a bit loosened.

"I really appreciate your help, Professor." She began, voice slurring only a tiny bit.

He didn't reply, just stopped collecting ingredients and components long enough to look over his shoulder at her briefly and note her slightly flushed face-another side-effect of the pain potion's slightly narcotic effects, and her glassy eyes.

"I was afraid you would make fun of me and refuse to help, like you did when he hexed my teeth. I thought that maybe you would congratulate him or take points from Gryffindor for me being stupid enough to let myself get hit…" she trailed off, and this time Snape frowned and instead of simply turning to look at the injured and slightly intoxicated student across the room, he walked toward her, frown lines etched deep in his forehead.

Hermione suddenly seemed to realize just what she had said to the most-feared potions professor, and a look of mortification came over her face.

"P-professor, I apologize, I didn't mean to say-"

"Silence." he commanded, and Hermione began to tremble visibly.

"My God, child, what kind of a beast do you think I am?" he demanded, his face almost shocked. "You have been attacked by very dark magic, how could you even think that I would be unconcerned by, even pleased with this situation?"

She began to bite her lip, and he softened.

"Miss Granger… Hermione… this situation troubles me greatly, but not because I do not wish to help you."

He seated himself near her and did his best to hold her wavering gaze.

"It troubles me because I am concerned for you."

The only reason he was revealing so much to her, he knew, was the simple fact that when the intoxication from the potion wore off, it was very unlikely that she would recall much, if anything, that had occurred.

He hoped.

Because at the moment, he found his arms full of a crying, trembling Hermione Granger, and before he could think of a single reason not to, he was gently rubbing her back and doing his best to sooth her, while enjoying her peasant scent and reminding himself that she was a student, _his_ student, and a Gryffindor, and friends with the Witless Wonder, and every other reason why he was without a doubt a disgusting, lecherous old pervert.

But it didn't seem to be working. At all.

After what seemed to him to be far too long, Hermione calmed and pulled away, still sniffling a little bit and rubbing at her eyes. Severus transfigured a nearby bit of parchment into a soft handkerchief and offered it to her, a look of distaste on his face with she noisily blew her noise into it.

"Now then, Miss Granger, if you think you may be able to refrain from springing another leak, I will get back to collecting the necessary things for your potion."

The words were snarky enough, but Severus knew as he spoke them that they lacked the bite and sting usually present, and he cursed his weakness as he stalked back across the room and went back to work.

Hermione just continued to dab at her eyes on and off as she felt the last of her pain fade away, leaving a pleasant numbness in its wake.

Glancing at the small clock at the corner of Professor Snape's desk, she was surprised to see that it was already after six, they were missing supper. And Harry and Ron, she realized, must be worried sick by now.

She was just beginning to plan what she would tell them (the truth was _certainly_ out of the question), when she was interrupted by the loud "clang!" of a cauldron being placed on the pewter top of a lab table.

Hermione jumped briefly, the room had been so completely silent that such a loud noise seemed even more magnified and rang out in the room sharply, going so far as to even echo a bit off the cold stone of the walls.

She looked at where the noise had come from, and watched Professor Snape, a very concentrated and focused expression making his usually stern face appear even more stony, serious and unapproachable.

He was very carefully and precisely slicing and measuring ingredients, some of which Hermione had never even known existed, and she found herself fascinated by the way he made the preparations look almost effortless, he was moving so confidently and quickly.

Eventually, he placed his wand at the base of the cauldron and murmured a spell, and even from across the room, Hermione could see the color change that meant the cauldron was heating.

He stirred it a few times, than looked up and for a moment appeared surprised that Hermione was watching him before his face shifted back to indifference and he sneered.

"It is not polite to stare, Miss Granger." he hissed, and Hermione had the good graces to blush before looking away.

"The potion must steep for one hour before the next step can be taken. I suggest you go to the Great Hall and nourish yourself, then return here and you can do a bit of work to repay me for my time wasted and the expensive ingredients that this little… incident has used up."

While he had been speaking, Severus had moved away from the cauldron and toward Hermione, and now he was less than a foot away from the student in his large desk chair.

She was dwarfed by it, and made to look-and feel-even smaller by the way the imposing Professor loomed high above her, his exceptional height punctuated by his words, their surroundings, and Hermione's posture.

"Yes, sir." she said simply, looking into his eyes unflinchingly. Her frank appraisal and obviously fearless gaze made him soften very slightly, and he graced her with a small, but no less sincere smirk.

"Do try to avoid undue strain to your midsection while you are out of the range of my watchful eyes, and you are to return alone. While I understand the difficulties a Gryffindor no doubt has withholding information from those around them, it would be wise to keep silent about both your injury and the fact that you are coming to me for anything other than much-needed discipline."

Hermione stared at him a moment as if trying to comprehend what she had just been told.

"You want me to tell people that I've received a detention with you?!" she demanded incredulously, cheeks reddening in insulted frustration and anger.

"Actually, a weeks-worth of detentions with me. Remember, seven doses over a span of seven days, Miss Granger."

Oh, he was enjoying this far too much, Hermione was certain.

"And what am I to say I've done wrong? I'm in my seventh year and I've never had a detention before! Not a-a _real_ one at least!" she exclaimed, obviously outraged.

Yes, he was definitely enjoying this, if the ever-growing smirk on his face was anything to go by.

"You're a clever girl, Miss Granger. I am certain you will figure something out."


	2. Chapter Two

Well, people have been clamoring for the next installment, and although I have been working on it, and I wanted to make it a little bit longer before posting, I decided that this should do, and should also tide you all over until the next chapter comes up, hopefully within the next week. Enjoy and please review! If you have any suggestions or ideas for something you'd like to see, please tell me, and I'll try to work it in. Also, I'm DYING to find someone to do some one-on-one Harry Potter roleplaying with over a AIM, Yahoo or something like that… Snape and Hermione, of course… so if you're interested drop me an email or let me know in your review.

**XXXXX**

"Now let me get this straight." Ron Weasley had a look on his face like he had just been told that there is no Santa Claus. "You argued with Snape after Potions about the grade you got on your three feet on the properties of basilisk venom, and he gave you a week of detention?!"

He and Harry shared the same expression of shocked disbelief as they stared at her from across the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, and Hermione flushed.

"Yes, Ron. That's what I just finished telling you." she hissed, obviously trying to ensure that other students did not overhear.

Harry's expression turned to one of outrage.

"He's just doing this because you're my friend." he exclaimed, and Hermione shook her head vehemently.

"No, he's doing this because I was disrespectful and rude to him, and accused him of giving me a poor grade because he doesn't know anything about the subject."

The boys stared at her in silence for a moment, and then burst into laughter.

"Oh, I wish I could have seen his face!" Ron exclaimed, and Hermione rolled her eyes. A quick glance at the clock told her that she should be returning to the dungeons, and she stood, carefully masking her discomfort as she straightened herself, then picked up her books.

"I'll be late tonight, I'm sure. Don't wait up for me." she stated simply, then gave them a short wave as she turned and exited the Hall.

It had not been lost on Hermione that Professor Snape had not arrived for supper, and she hoped that missing the meal would not mean that he would be even more unpleasant that evening, although she knew that it was a distinct possibility, for sure.

By the time she was back at the door to his private labs (after successfully dodging both Peeves _and_ Malfoy), she was slightly out of breath, and wondering if Professor Snape might be willing to give her some more of that pain relieving potion that she had taken earlier. While her memories were cloudy at best regarding the ten minutes of painless bliss after she'd swallowed down the bitter fluid, she did recall his arms around her at one point, and the comfort they had offered as her slightly intoxicated mind released all anguish and long subdued shock at her attack. And she could also recall how comforting it felt to be held by him, even if she remembered only bits and pieces.

Cautiously, Hermione raised a fist and knocked at the oak door before her, then lowered her hand and waited. A moment or so later, it swung open and she was greeted by the dark eyes of the Potions Master himself.

"Miss Granger. How good of you to join me." He sneered, then stood aside and let her enter.

She did so unfalteringly, and did not even jump when he slammed the door behind her.

"The potion is nearly ready for consumption," he stated simply. "I will require a second examination of your injury."

Hermione turned, surprised, and began to wring her hands.

It seemed that flinging her blouse open at the spur of the moment was much easier than being asked to, and she flushed bright red as she began to unbutton the front of her robes, avoiding her Professor's gaze carefully.

For his part, Severus was having a difficult time keeping himself from embarrassment as well. It was one thing to view her midriff in the heat of argument, but he could not deny that he was looking forward, at least somewhat, to a quick glance at the Gryffindor's chest before moving on to examine her wound a second time.

_Which_, he thought to himself,_ is perfectly normal and acceptable, any man would look forward to such a thing when faced with a woman-__**any**__ woman._ He nodded internally. _That I may or may not be anticipating a peek at her breasts is neither here nor there, any man would do the same. It means nothing, absolutely and positively nothing at all._

Pity. He almost believed it.

Several minutes went by before Hermione was shyly opening her shirt to show the injury again, and she screwed her eyes shut tightly in total mortification.

Which is why she gasped loudly when she felt cool fingers on her a few moments later.

"Hold still," Severus hissed as he carefully probed her skin, a look of concentration on his face. "I do not wish to cause you pain, but if you insist on moving all over the place like an antsy child, I cannot be held responsible for your discomfort."

Hermione held her breath as she looked down at the top of his head, watching his facial expressions shift and change as he carefully examined her charred flesh. While uncomfortable, the contact of his fingertips against her was not painful, and she found herself wondering if those hands could be so gentle with uninjured flesh as well…

"I must finish the potion," He was standing up gracefully, then striding across the room. "Leave your midsection exposed. I will want to examine it fully while you consume the first dose to watch for any changes that may take place."

Hermione nodded despite the fact that he could not see her-his back was turned-and seated herself in his chair to await his next orders, sighing softly.

"Once you have taken the potion, you must get adequate rest. I will insist that you go straight to your dormitory-no socializing, no studying, and no rule-breaking tonight."

Hermione blinked, surprised.

"But Professor, I thought you wanted me to repay you for the ingredients and time, if the potion is almost complete and I'm to rest afterwards, how-"

"Next time, Miss Granger," he spoke, cutting her off smoothly. "The store room will still be here tomorrow night."

She smiled, only because his back was still turned and he could not see it. She recognized this as the stoic Professor being kind to her in his own way. Before she had a moment or two to analyze this new information (why would he want to be _kind_ to her-didn't he hate her?), he was walking toward the desk and her chair with a steaming black ceramic mug in his hands.

"Now then, Miss Granger, drink up."

The liquid was foul against her tongue, and she sputtered slightly before downing the last dredges in the bottom, nose wrinkling in distaste. Almost immediately she felt a strange stretching sensation across her stomach, not unlike the feeling of the Polyjuice potion she'd taken so long ago beginning to take effect, and for a brief moment she had the terrified thought that she was about to sprout fur and a tail once again. However when she looked down it was just in time to see the blackened color of her flesh fade to a sickly gray. No fur in sight.

Hermione's eyes flicked up to catch the gaze of the Potions Professor, and she relaxed when she saw no real concern on his face.

"Just as I expected. Excellent," he said simply, then straightened and smoothed down his robes. "Please replace your clothing, Miss Granger."

Hermione did so quickly as her mind raced a million miles a minute. Before she had a chance to form any complete conclusions about the whole experience, however, Snape was putting away the last of the supplies and moving towards her.

"Why are you still here?" he demanded almost wearily. She flushed just a bit, and then began to speak quickly before she lost her nerve.

"Sir, are you going to tell the Headmaster about this? Or Professor McGonagall?" she whispered, and Severus rolled his eyes briefly.

"Not unless I absolutely must." he ground out, and Hermione frowned.

"But Sir, you said it yourself! Draco used very dark and dangerous magic against me! Shouldn't he be punished?" she demanded. "Shouldn't the ministry be informed? Professor Dumbledore would be-"

"Then perhaps, Miss Granger, you should have gone to _Professor Dumbledore_ instead of _me_." he sneered grandly, and Hermione bit her lip, as if holding more words back by force alone.

"I will take care of Mr. Malfoy, I assure you of that."

Hermione found herself nodding in understanding without really meaning to, and Severus gave her his closest approximation of an actual smile. Rather frightening, really.

"Good. Now get yourself to Gryffindor Tower, and be sure to get the best sleep possible. If during the day you find yourself in too much pain to wait for our evening meeting, excuse yourself to the restroom and come directly to me."

"Yes, sir." Hermione said softly, then turned and began to walk toward the closed door. A 'click' sounded, and it opened just a crack.

"Oh, and Hermione?"

She turned her head to look over her shoulder curiously, one hand outstretched toward the knob.

"Do be sure not to tell _anyone_ of this, hmm? Good night."

It was only as Hermione crawled into her bed that night and tucked her cold toes under an extra layer of warm fleece blanket that she realized he had called her by her first name.

And only in the dreams which followed that she realized how much she liked it.

**XXXXX**

"Oi, Mione! What did Snape have you doing in detention last night? You look bloody _exhausted!_"

Hermione wasn't sure if it was due to her headache or a strange twist of nature that made Ron Weasley speaking to her from across the breakfast table with his mouth full of food even more annoying (not to mention disgusting) than usual. As it were, she wrinkled her nose, casting him a glare before replying.

"I was replacing labels on potion bottles, and honestly Ron, in 16 years has your mother really failed to teach you _any_ manners?"

Ron's ears reddened just a little, but then he was swallowing and laughing.

"C'mon, Hermione! We can't all be dainty pansies, can we?" He nudged Harry, who grinned and shoved in his own enormous mouthful before giving Hermione a truly grotesque grin.

'Well, that doesn't mean you need to stuff your faces like _trolls_, either, does it?"

The boys just laughed, and Hermione rolled her eyes. From the corner of her gaze she saw movement, and a quick look toward the staff table showed that Professor Snape was striding from the dais and toward the Slytherin table. She continued to watch as he stopped behind Draco Malfoy, then leaned down and spoke quietly in his ear for a few moments, straightened and without a backwards glance left the Great Hall, robes billowing out behind him as always.

Quickly, Hermione snapped her eyes back to Harry and Ron, but if they noticed her momentarily distracted state, they weren't saying anything.

Relieved, she continued to eat her breakfast, knowing that Professor Snape was keeping his word and handling the situation with Draco, and feeling a wave of happiness at the realization that he must not hate her so much, after all.

**XXXXX**

Severus Snape was exhausted. After a long day dealing with dunderheads and Longbottom's-in-training there was an acute pain in his head, and he felt as though he'd suffered a few dozen Cruciatus Curses as the hands of the Dark Lord. The fleeting thought that he was growing too old for this line of work crossed his mind, and he frowned, forehead creasing.

Miss Granger was due to his office within the hour for his treatment of her curse wound, and he was a little apprehensive about her arrival. Quite simply, he was tired, irritated, and knew that the gentle manner in which the Gryffindor would need to be treated would be very difficult for him to achieve. He did not want to frighten the poor girl, just because he had to pretend to have a great prejudice against her didn't mean that he wanted to be cruel when no one else was around. Severus groaned, reminding himself that Granger, Potter and Weasley knew of his status as a Spy for the Order. He had not, however, changed his treatment of the "Boy Who Lived to be a Pain in His Neck" or his ginger sidekick when in private with them… so why should he treat their brainy female companion any differently? Removing his outer robe and hanging it over the back of his desk chair, Severus concluded that there was no point in trying to reason anything out right now. The potion, which had been brewing for the past hour or so, was ready for consumption, and he busied himself with decanting it into a bottle and setting it aside to cool. Next, he went to his desk and dug through a few drawers before he found the tin of Magdon's Magical Salve (_guaranteed to soothe even the deepest cursed wound or dragon burn_!) and placed it beside the potion, trying not to consider the fact that he would have to make contact with her bare skin (on her midriff again, no less) in order to apply it. A quick glance at the clock told him that the ever-punctual girl would be arriving any moment now, and he started slightly when he realized that he had been unconsciously smoothing his robes and hair in preparation for her return.

Severus had to smile as he recalled the dirty looks he'd received from Potter and Weasley all through Potions that afternoon, and he knew that Granger must have told them about her week's worth of "detentions" the night before, or possibly that morning. Anything that bothered Potter that much was good news as far as Severus was concerned, and as a small part of his mind tried to remind him that this Potter was not the one from his past, a gentle knock came to his door. Lazily, Severus flicked his want in that general direction, and a moment later Hermione Granger was poking her head inside.

"Good evening, Professor."

He nodded his greeting, and the student slipped into his office the rest of the way, closing the door quietly behind herself.

"Miss Granger. Right on time." He pointed to his desk chair, and once she was seated, he summoned the potion to his hand, looked down into her eyes, and spoke a simple command.

"Open your shirt."

His frank statement caused butterflies to suddenly go wild in her stomach, and Hermione fumbled with her buttons for a moment before managing to bare her torso to his gaze once again. The potion was thrust into her grasp, and Hermione drank it down, anticipating the foul taste.

Which is why she was surprised when she encountered a pleasant mint flavor instead.

Severus, meanwhile, was focused on watching as the dull gray of her wound lightened to a smoky shade, and the near-melted, puckered texture smoothed out a bit. When he lifted his gaze back to meet the girl's eyes, he blinked at her apparent confusion.

"This potion tasted like something died in it last night."

He scowled.

"And now, it was actually refreshing." She fell silent, the question obvious.

"Ahh yes. I added mint. For its healing properties." He explained concisely, the turned to grab the tin of Magdon's, breaking eyes contact.

Hermione cracked a small smile. "And I'm sure the fact that it eliminated the bad taste was no factor in your decision." She mused, eyes twinkling.

"Hmm?" he turned back, tin in hand, and twisted the cap off, then scooped a generous portion onto his fingers. "No, I could care less whether you find the taste to be palatable or nauseating." He grumbled, and then began smearing the salve across her wound quickly.

Hermione gasped, jumping in surprise, and he froze. Meeting her gaze, he frowned.

"Painful?" he questioned, and Hermione flushed as she noticed the concern in his expression, and then shook her head.

"Cold." She stated, and Severus rolled his eyes and continued to apply the creamy, gel-like substance liberally.

"You will find a quill and fresh pot of ink on the table nearest the store cupboards. Simple vanishing and refreshing spells will prepare the labels on the jars and bottles so that you may rewrite upon them. You will work until supper, after which you are free until tomorrow evening. I will be grading papers, do not disturb me."

With all that said, Severus replaced the lid on the tin, scourgified his hands, than shooed Hermione from his chair, watching her walk toward the storage cupboards before sitting down and beginning to attend to his work.

Hermione found the almost mindless task of replacing the labels to be rather relaxing, all things considered, and she let her mind wander a bit as she worked. Just what exactly was Professor Snape doing to ensure that Malfoy wouldn't come after her again? She knew better than to ask, that was for sure. And why wouldn't he tell Dumbledore? It seemed like something the headmaster should know about. Maybe she should tell him herself?

She glanced at the Potions master for a second, than mentally shook her head. No, that would not be a wise move. Snape was helping her, and actually being civil, if not exactly kind. He must have a good reason for wanting to keep Dumbledore in the dark about the situation, and Hermione decided to trust his judgment for now, at least.

An hour went by quickly, and Severus looked up from his work long enough to clear his throat and meet Hermione's startled gaze.

"You may leave for supper now." He stated simply, and she nodded, collected her things, and headed for the door.

"Same time tomorrow, Professor?" she asked and he frowned.

"Unfortunately, yes. Good evening, Hermione."

She gave a shy smile, noting his use of her first name for the second time, but she may as well not have bothered. He was already face-down in his work again. Sighing, she let herself out, closing the door solidly behind and slowly walking toward the Great Hall.

**XXXXX**

"Wow, Snape only had you in there for a little over an hour, 'Mione! He must be going soft!" Ron looked surprised, and a little suspicious, as well.

"He usually keeps me a lot longer." Harry remarked, before taking a bite of his supper. Hermione just shrugged, and filled her plate, glancing to Professor Snape's empty seat at the head table. Had he always come in late, and she'd never noticed before?

Harry and Ron were talking about the upcoming Quidditch match now, and Hermione allowed her eyes to briefly scan the rest of the room. That was when she noticed Malfoy was missing too. She was just starting to consider the implication of this when the doors to the Great hall opened and Severus entered, the missing Slytherin at his side. They appeared to be engaged in some discussion, although it ceased by the time the doors were closed behind them, and then Malfoy met her gaze, a look of pure hatred in his eyes so strong that Hermione shuddered.

Snape escorted him all the way to his seat at the Slytherin table, than walked to his own place on the dais, never looking in Hermione's direction once, much to her consternation. What had just happened? Whatever it was, Malfoy looked fit to be tied, he was positively fuming, and appeared to be having a very heated discussion with the students nearest him. Severus, meanwhile, was calmly loading his plate, as if nothing had happened.

This was absurd, Hermione concluded. When she saw Professor Snape the following night, she would demand answers, she deserved to know how Malfoy was being taken care of, and she wanted reassurance from the Professor that he was no longer a danger.

The matter settled in her mind, Hermione began to eat her supper, putting it all from her mind as she began to plan her studies for the rest of the evening.

It was only then that Severus looked up at the Gryffindor, studying her carefully, a pensive, thoughtful expression overtaking his usually stoic features.

The next few days, he mused, would be very interesting. He was sure about that.


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, they belong to J

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, they belong to J.K Rowling of course. The plot is all mine though, so no stealing!

In going over the first two chapters again with a fine-tooth comb, I found several typos and grammatical errors. I've fixed them to the best of my ability, and I'd like to take a moment to say that if someone has experience as a beta reader, I'd LOVE to take them on as a beta for this fic. Having the errors caught the first time would be grand.

Here's chapter three for you all, hope you enjoy! It's a bit shorter than the others, but I wanted to get it uploaded as soon as I could, seeing as it's been like, two months since I last updated.

**XXXXX**

Hermione spent a long evening working on her Transfiguration paper, going to bed long after everyone else had fallen asleep. When she woke up the next morning, her abdomen was particularly sore, and she felt like just rolling over and going back to sleep. Instead, she slowly sat up, wincing a little bit, and got dressed and ready for breakfast. Harry and Ron weren't in the common room, and after a quick look at the clock, she concluded that they were probably still in bed. It was a bit early, after all.

After making sure that all here textbooks and rolls of parchment were accounted for, Hermione made her way down to the Great Hall. Just as she reached the doors, another twinge of pain made her double over. At the sound of voices approaching, she turned her head and watched as a few students came toward her. Her stomach dropped when she realized that it was Malfoy and a few other Slytherin students. The pain intensified, and she held back a moan of discomfort.

Almost immediately, Draco caught her eye. Quickly, she straightened up and glared at him, hoping he didn't see how she trembled, or how unusually pale she was.

"Granger," Draco sneered, and she rolled her eyes. "Careful… there won't always be Professors around to help you out of trouble." He taunted, and then he and his friends slipped into the hall, leaving her staring after them, lips parted in surprise.

As soon as they were out of sight, Hermione bowed over again, feeling a wave of nausea wash over her body like a hot flush. The thought of Madam Pomfrey entered her mind, then exited just as quickly. _No._

She staggered toward the dungeons instead. It was a horrible five minute walk, her vision swimming, dizziness making everything appear dark and distorted around her, even more ominous and frightening than usual. What's more, the dank, cool smell of mildew and fresh earth that permeated the dungeons in their entirety added to her delicate stomach's discomfort, and more than once she had to stop and lean against a moist stone wall, lest she threw up.

By the time she made it to the door of Professor Snape's office, she was white as a ghost and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Raising her hand, she knocked weakly a few times on the wooden door.

Her heart constricted when there was no answer right away – was he gone? And then the door swung open, and an irritated Professor stood before her. The anger on his face quickly dissolved, however, when he saw who it was and the state they were in.

"Miss Granger?"

He didn't wait for a reply, just reached out, took her arms in his hands, and helped her inside, closing the door tightly behind them.

She was pressed into a chair immediately, and Snape was across the room to his potion cupboard in two strides. He dug around noisily, than came back with several bottles in hands. Uncorking one, he pressed it to her lips, and Hermione drank it down gratefully. Almost right away the pain faded to a dull ache, and she sank back into the seat, relieved.

"What happened?" he demanded, white-faced and tight lipped.

Hermione shrugged, obviously exhausted. "I don't know… it hurt when I woke up a little. When I went to the Great Hall, it got much worse. I thought I might faint."

"Did anyone see you in pain?" there was urgency in his eyes.

She blinked, thoughtful. "Yes, Draco." Her expression darkened noticeably. "He and some other Slytherin students. It got really bad when he was there, but I tried to pretend I was all right."

He nodded slowly.

"I see."

Another potion was presented to her, and she gave a soft sigh.

Suddenly, she doubled over and vomited. Snape jumped, then quickly scourgified the mess away, his expression a mingled one of disgust, concern, and displeasure.

Whimpering, Hermione trembled, and Severus frowned, reaching out to feel her forehead.

"No fever." He stated, before pushing a wave of her hair aside to see her face better. "Do you feel any better now?"

His voice, she noticed through the fog of dizziness that had overcome her, held none of its usual bite. Instead it was concerned, and almost warm.

Hermione nodded, sniffled, than began to cry. She was in pain, frightened and confused, and the emotions were finally coming out.

Severus looked rather uncomfortable, and awkwardly reached out to gently pat and rub her back, unsure what else to do.

"Must you?" he asked, voice strained slightly. With a sense of déjà vu, he transfigured a nearby parchment scrap, once again, into a handkerchief and pressed it into her hands.

Hermione gave a few great sniffles and hiccoughs, dabbed at her face and nose, and then raised her pink face up to meet Severus' eyes, her own reddened.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, voice thick from the tears. "I'm usually not so emotional…" she trailed off as a few more tears made themselves known, and her head bowed as she began to sob again.

Severus was reminded why he didn't spend much time around women. Far too drippy for his tastes, to be honest.

"You've had a rough couple of days, Miss Granger. I'm quite sure that a bit of blubbering is expected." He grumbled, and she giggled. At him. Severus scowled.

"Yes, you're right Professor. I suppose "blubbering" a little bit isn't a bad thing. I feel a bit better now, anyway." Hermione quipped as she scrubbed off her face.

"Good," He snapped, arms folded in irritation. "If that's all, then, I was in the middle of important work. You may let yourself out."

Hermione frowned, standing up slowly. "Oh… yes, of course." She said softly, glancing up at his thunderous eyes, then down at the floor. "I'm sorry to have bothered you so early in the morning… but you did tell me to come to you if I was in pain, after all."

She looked up to catch his eyes again, and could have sworn that his face flushed just a little bit in embarrassment.

"Yes, I did. However, I didn't think you would arrive before half the castle is even awake. You're lucky I was here, and not in my quarters."

His expression had softened just a little, and Hermione felt much less intimidated. Deciding to press her luck, she licked her lips nervously and went for it.

"Professor, I noticed yesterday that you and Draco came into the Great Hall together, and he looked pretty angry… I was wondering, what exactly are you doing to… well, punish him? I mean, I was hoping you could assure me that it's adequate enough to keep him from-"

"Do not concern yourself with the matter. I have it under control, you will have no more trouble from him." Professor Snape stated shortly, before striding away from her and toward his desk. "Leave me."

"But sir!" she entreated, following after him quickly and skirting around so that she was facing him once again, "After what happened, I think I deserve to know how exactly you "have it under control", he's very angry with me and I don't want to find myself in that situation again, you know!"

He sneered down at her, eyes flashing. "Do you doubt my ability to punish my own students, Miss Granger?"

"Just the ones you favor over all the others!" she shot back, and instantly regretted it, as his face darkened.

"Out." He stated, and with a point of his finger toward the door, it swung open violently, bouncing off of the wall and sending a "crack!" reverberating around the room.

Hermione didn't need to be told twice.


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Notes: This chapter starts to get closer to a PG-13/light R rating at the end. You've been warned.

Please review and let me know what you think. I had a lot of fun with this chapter. You should see the evil grin on my face right now. Mwa ha ha!

**Treating Her Curses, Healing His Soul**

_Chapter Four_

Staring at the door that the infuriating Gryffindor had just exited, Severus Snape could still feel the rage within himself boiling. How dare she talk to him in such a manner? After everything he was doing for her-and all he was risking by doing it, none the less, her accusation that he was playing favorites…

How _could_ she?

It took almost half an hour and several shots of Ogden's for him to realize that he was hurt. That Hermione Granger had hurt his bloody feelings.

_Starting to go soft…_ he thought distastefully, downing another shot and slowly exhaling, smoke puffing from his nostrils like a dragon.

Before he could decide what to do with this information, however, a voice from behind him, from the general direction of his fireplace, actually, startled him from his thoughts.

"Severus, my boy! So glad to see you aren't occupied! Come to my office, please." said the cheerful, flaming face of Albus Dumbledore.

Severus scowled, grinding his teeth. This was _not_ what he needed right now. Turning, he met flame-Dumbledore's gaze.

"I believe you're mistaken. I am quite _occupied_ at the moment." he hissed, gesturing to the half-empty liquor bottle. Dumbledore chuckled.

"I hardly think pouting into a bottle counts as busy, Severus. If it's that important to you, bring it along." And with that, the fireplace returned to normal, just in time, as Severus' glass shattered among the flames.

XXXXXX

"Gumballs."

The password was barely out of the Potions Master's mouth when the gargoyles moved aside, and with a long-suffering sigh, Severus ascended the stairs and knocked on the door.

"Come in." came Dumbledore's muffled voice, and Severus opened the door and stepped inside.

"Ah, wonderful to see you so promptly!" the headmaster said jovially, gesturing to the armchair before his desk. "Please, do sit down."

Reluctantly, Severus did so, and folded his hands in his lap.

"Lovely. Now then, it has been brought to my attention that Miss Hermione Granger is currently serving a rather… lengthy detention with you. Is this correct?"

Severus scowled, but said nothing.

"I shall take your silence as an agreement. Lemon drop?" he offered, gesturing to the dish on his desk. Severus made no reply. "I thought not. Anyhow, I feel I must draw a bit of a parallel to your attention. Your mood has been considerably fouler since you gave the poor girl the detention. If it gets any worse, your glaring and scowling may actually cause physical harm to someone." His eyes began to twinkle.

Severus nearly exploded. Jumping to his feet, he began to rave.

"The girl is unmanageable! Insufferable! Completely disrespectful! She never stops talking, thinks she's so brilliant! Her irritation of me could not possibly reach a higher level!"

Albus held back a chuckle.

"I don't know why I even bother acknowledging the chit! Gryffindor through and through, so self righteous!"

Sinking back into his chair, Severus rubbed his face with his hands.

"You know," Albus began cautiously, "I remember a time not all that long ago when you enjoyed a certain know it all Gryffindor's insufferable nature."

Severus' head snapped up. "Don't you dare bring her into this. The two of them have absolutely nothing in common, and I most certainly do not find any feature of Miss Granger appealing!"

Albus' eyes were threatening to twinkle right out of their very sockets.

"I never suggested that you found her "appealing" in the slightest, Severus."

The Potions Master's face blanched, and then turned several shades of purple and red.

"This conversation is over," he stated flatly, standing and heading for the door. "Disrespectful Gryffindor brat." He grumbled under his breath as he reached for the doorknob.

"Severus."

He turned.

"Perhaps if you treated her with respect, as an equal in some ways, she would in turn respect you."

"An equal? Respect?! She's a child, and a spoiled one at that." He turned the knob, prepared to storm away.

"Miss Granger came of age over the last summer holiday, Severus. She has not been a child for some time."

Severus froze, eyes going wide.

"Have a good night!"

XXXXXX

Transfiguration, a class which Hermione had a deep fondness for, was failing to keep her attention today. The large spider before her was remaining in its same form, much to the horror of Ron, as he sat next to her.

By the end of the class she had roused herself from her thoughts long enough to flick her wand and transfigure the arachnid into a hat pin, as she could have done earlier, and as everyone filed out of the room, Professor McGonagall caught Hermione's arm and held her back.

"A word, Miss Granger?" Hermione nodded, and sat down in a chair that McGonagall had just transfigured from a box of odds and ends on her desk.

"You seemed distracted today," the Professor began, "and I believe it has something to do with this ridiculous detention you've been given by Professor Snape."

Hermione's face went white. Mistaking her expression, Professor McGonagall put a comforting hand on her arm.

"There now, I know he can be a bit… intimidating…"

Hermione shook her head. "No Professor, honestly. Everything is fine; I'm just tired from studying last night."

"That is exactly what I am talking about. He keeps you from after dinner until curfew every night, how does he expect you to do any schoolwork? Don't you worry though, dear. I'll have a little chat with him and get all this straightened out. You've had detention enough, I think."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "No!" she blushed. "I mean, no Professor. I can manage just fine. Please, I'm so tired of everyone making a fuss. I was disrespectful to Professor Snape, I deserve the detention. I need to prove that I can handle him, that I don't need special treatment." There, that sounded reasonable enough, didn't it?

"Well, it can be quite difficult to treat the man with respect on occasion. I wouldn't feel too bad." Professor McGonagall said simply. "The thing to remember is that he is a complicated man, with a very complicated past. He can be difficult at times, but…"

Hermione nodded in understanding, feeling increasingly guilty for her behavior the night before.

"Thank you professor," she began, standing up from the chair rather abruptly, "could I be excused now?"

At the Professor's surprised nod, Hermione let herself out, head bowed in thought.

XXXXXX

Evening came rather quickly, and filled with dread, Hermione made her way to the dungeons, and knocked on Professor Snape's office door.

"Enter."

Taking a deep breath, she slipped inside, and met the Potions Professor's gaze.

"Professor, I-"

"Miss Granger-"

The both fell silent for a moment, a bit surprised, before Severus gestured to Hermione.

"Professor Snape, I just wanted to… well, say that I'm sorry for my behavior last night. I should have doubted you."

He blinked. And then blinked again.

"Oh."

He certainly hadn't expected _this_.

"I accept your apology, Miss Granger," he began, somewhat awkwardly, "I trust that in the future you will think before you speak."

_Yes, that sounded sarcastic and unfeeling enough._ He concluded.

"You… wanted to say something too, Professor?" she asked timidly, and Severus frowned, than nodded.

"Yes. Well, I wanted to… I wanted to apologize as well. For my quick temper. It was… _disrespectful_…" the word had caused him obvious discomfort, "and I should not have spoken to you so."

Now it was Hermione's turn to be shocked.

"Oh! Well um… thank you," she said softly. "I accept your apology too."

"Good." He said brusquely, "Now that we're finished with that matter, I have your potion ready."

As Severus turned to get the flask, Hermione allowed a brief smile to cross her face.

_Who would have thought?_

Looking at the back of his head, Hermione felt a certain fondness rise up inside of her.

_Who would have thought, indeed._

XXXXXX

That night, as the bushy-haired Gryffindor slept peacefully in her dormitory, Professor Snape lay in bed drenched in sweat, the bedclothes tangled around his legs as he twitched and mumbled in his sleep.

With a rather furious bought of jerking and a few spasms, he let out one long, deep moan, one that slowly turned into a name.

"Hermione…" he hissed, body relaxing, breath puffing in deep pants.

And he slept on.


	5. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Notes: So sorry for the delay in updates. Life's been pretty hectic and I haven't felt all that inspired lately…

**Treating Her Curses, Healing His Soul**  
_Chapter Five_

When Severus Snape woke up in the early morning, he was quickly aware of several things.

One, his bedclothes were soiled in a manner he hadn't experienced since he was a student himself.

And two, the reason for his nocturnal "adventures" had been none other than Hermione-bloody-Granger.

_Shite._

Sitting up and making a hasty grab for his wand, for a moment Severus wasn't sure if he wanted to clean up the mess and get on with his day, or avada kedavra himself right then and there. Opting for the former, he flicked his wand and the stickiness disappeared.

With a groan of disgust, the Potions Professor swung his legs out of the bed and padded barefoot to the bathroom for a long shower.

Best make it a cold one, too. Memories of his vivid dreams the night before had him horrified, ashamed, and painfully aroused.

_Shite, shite, shite._

XXXXXX

Breakfast in the Great Hall was business as usual for Hermione, who sat across the long Gryffindor table from her two best friends. As the boys began to discuss the 14 inches that they'd finally written for Transfiguration the night before, Hermione finished her breakfast and prepared to head to the library before Charms class was due to begin.

"I'll meet you guys later, okay? I have a few things I want to look up in the library."

Harry and Ron spared her a quick glance and an arched eyebrow each, before nodding and going back to their conversation. After all, Hermione going to the library wasn't exactly big news.

And so, she put her bag over a shoulder and trekked from the Great Hall up a few staircases, and several minutes later found herself searching the vast shelves for a very specific tome.

"Healing… ah, hexes!" she exclaimed, as she pulled down a rather large and well-used book, bound in dark leather, pages tipped in red. "Hexes: A Grisly Grimoire" she murmured, tracing the gold-gilded lettering on the cover with a fingertip.

Nodding, Hermione carried the weighty volume to a nearby table and cautiously opened it up. When nothing exploded, shrieked, or burst into flames she flipped to the index and began to search for anything that could possibly be the hex she'd experienced first-hand just a few days before.

It was twenty minutes, and fifteen hexes later that she came across the likely candidate.

_"The Flesh Melting Curse."_ She began to read softly to herself, lips barely moving, _"is an illegal curse, banned for use without direct authorization after a mishap in 1875 led to twenty four witches and wizards being melted on the spot outside of Hampshire, England during a duel. The curse is most easily recognized by the victim's skin turning to a sickly black color, and often times the skin actually melts away, leaving the affected areas flesh-less."_ She shuddered. Sounded like the right one, that was for sure. She continued to read. _"The incantation 'Tabesco Pulpa', when paired with a quick wrist rotation anti-clockwise and the proper malicious intent, will send a blue flash from the wand that appears almost as if it is being affected by a great force of static electricity, looking to the naked eye to almost be prickly_."

Hermione had found her hex. 

Scanning down the page, she found the heading '_After Effects'_, and began to read quickly.

"_While a very powerful potion (more information under Curing Dark Hexes, page 443) can remove the damage done to the flesh if it is not entirely melted away, the most dangerous after effect of the Flesh Melting Curse is indisputably the power that the caster holds over the victim even after the curse has been cast. Until the injured party is completely healed (commonly takes seven to twelve days, depending on severity), the caster can make the injury become agonizing, even to the point of madness, just by having dark or murderous thoughts about the victim. Face to face contact between the caster and the victim are highly dangerous and can lead to death if the injury, and the anger of the caster, are strong enough."_

She stopped reading there, as she was suddenly overcome by the sensation that she might be sick.

Draco Malfoy could still harm her, just because he'd cast the spell? Did he know?

One thing was for sure. Hermione couldn't wait until Potions class was over. She and Professor Snape had some _serious_ talking to do.__

XXXXXX

The rest of the day went by in a haze for Hermione, who couldn't shake the fear that she would turn a corner to find herself face to face with Malfoy. The agony of the previous morning made more sense now, and she shuddered to think what could have happened. She was lucky she'd gotten away with her life, apparently!

Soon enough it was time for Advanced Potions, and Hermione met Harry and Ron outside of the classroom in the dungeons, her bag over her shoulder, although the book on hexes was making it quite unbearable to hold. When the boys arrived amid a gaggle of other Gryffindor students, she was relieved and concerned in equal measures. While glad that she had her two best friends at her side for the only class of the day with Slytherin (and therefore with Draco), she was also worried that they might notice her anxiety, despite her fervent attempts at holding it down, and start to figure out what had happened to her. After all, even if Ron was usually oblivious to much of what occurred around him, Harry was sharp, and a devoted enough friend to notice when anything at all was amiss.

But there was nothing to be done for it. The Slytherin students were arriving, and Hermione pushed the heavy dungeon door open, moving directly to her seat without sparing a glance to the heavy desk in the front of the room. She sat down with a sight of relief, and let her back fall to the ground next to her chair with a great "thunk" that made Ron raise an eyebrow.

"Geeze Hermione, what do you have in there, boulders?" he asked as he sank down into his spot next to Harry. She laughed his comment off, waving a hand in his general direction as the last of the students were seated and Professor Snape swept into the room in his usual robe-fluttering intimidation technique that had all the students immediately falling completely silent.

"Today we will be brewing a complex healing potion for the infirmary, as the next Quiddich game is coming up, and I'm sure Gryffindor will be in need of a large supply." He sneered, causing the Slytherins to begin snickering and casting the Gryffindor students (mostly Harry and Ron) decidedly malicious looks. While her friends became red-faced, obviously easily baited, Hermione simply looked down at her hands, folded on the table top, and waited for further instruction. The sooner class was over, the better.

"Your instructions are on the board. Sub-standard potions will receive a zero. They must be absolute perfection in order to be used. You may begin."

Hermione didn't need to be told twice. She quickly glanced at the board, then placed her cauldron on the table and went to the supply closet for ingredients. She was half way there when she noticed Malfoy standing in line right in front of her. She quickly back-peddled and squeaked softly when she felt herself run into something very solid.

"Such Gryffindor grace, Miss Granger."

Her face paled, and she turned quickly, lifting her chin to meet the amused gaze of Professor Snape.

"I may be mistaken, but I was under the impression that the ingredients for today's potion were that way," he drawled as he lifted a hand to lazily gesture in the opposite direction. "Did you get lost?"

Flushing, Hermione brought her lower lip between her teeth and shook her head. "No sir, I merely… well, I thought I would wait until it wasn't so crowded." She stated, hands folded behind her back.

A flash of understanding moved over Professor Snape's face so fast that she wasn't sure she had seen it at all, and then he nodded.

"As you wish."

She turned and quickly went to the closet, grabbing what she needed and getting back to her table, fingers shaking. What on earth was wrong with her? It was as if meeting his gaze had caused her knees to turn to water!

A nudge from Harry caused her to jump, and then quickly look his way.

"You all right? You seem a little pale, Hermione."

_Uh oh._

"Oh, I'm just a little hungry, didn't eat much at lunch I suppose." She said evasively, then turned toward her cauldron and began preparing her ingredients, thankful for the distraction. She let her concerns go, focusing instead on the chopping, grating, sprinkling and stirring required to make her potion as perfectly as she could. Hex or no hex, she was _not_ going to let her performance slip!

The end of class came quickly, and then Professor Snape was stalking through the rows of students, vanishing a potion with a sneer here and there, making short, one word remarks there. Finally he came to Hermione's cauldron. As always, it was flawless. He took a moment to let his eyes linger on the perfect pale lavender of the fluid inside her cauldron, and then met her gaze. "Not bad, Miss Granger."

But there was no venom in his words, and his eyes held none of their usual bite and sting. Instead, he regarded her carefully, as if trying to read something in her gaze, then moved on.

In the end, Harry's potion squeaked by, but Ron received a zero, and as everyone left the classroom, his grumbling was quite audible. Hermione hung back, and Harry was too busy trying to calm Ron down for either of them to notice when she closed the classroom door with her still inside, and turned to go back to Professor Snape's desk.

"What is it?" he asked simply as she stood before him, and she set down her bag on the floor, then reached in and pulled out the book, placing it before him on the desk and opening it to the marked page.

"This." She stated, pointing to the passage about the Flesh Melting Curse.

"Why didn't you tell me any of this? He can still cause me pain and damage, even now!" she cried, and Professor Snape took a cursory look, and then pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers in irritation.

"I did not want to frighten you any more than you already were. I feared you would become irrational."

She gaped.

"You didn't want to scare me?! That's no reason to not tell me that I was still in danger! I could have-"

"Miss Granger, do you think me a fool? As soon as you came to my office in such agony before, I took care to place a charm on Draco. He cannot hurt you further. You are perfectly safe."

She blinked, silenced quite effectively.

"I'm surprised you did not realize that right away, to be honest. Do you doubt my intentions to help you? Why would I bother brewing this potion, wasting precious ingredients and my precious time if I was going to allow Draco to potentially make things worse?"

He was becoming quite worked up, and Hermione swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't think of that. I was just so shocked and… I didn't think."

"Obviously." He grumbled, before standing and coming around the desk. Hermione quickly stood as well, and she flushed at the intensity of his gaze.

"Are you in any pain right now?" he asked, and she frowned, thoughtful.

"It does sting a little, but it isn't too bad." She replied, unable to hold eye contact any longer. Why was he looking at her like that? She felt almost like he was a wild animal about to pounce! Unconsciously she took a step back, and watched he went to his desk, opening a drawer.

Pulling out a tin of Magden's salve, he gestured to Hermione's robes. "Open them up, I'll put some more salve on for you." He offered, and her fingers found the fastenings before she even realized that she hadn't hesitated at all at his request.

At the first cold touches of his fingers, coated in the slick fluid, touched her skin, Hermione gave a soft, pleasured sigh, all her muscles relaxing as she looked down at the top of Professor Snape's head as he knelt before her, focused on his task.

Almost in slow motion, Hermione watched as if outside of her own body as her hand raised and touched his hair with gentle fingers. He froze.

But said nothing.

Taking it as encouragement, Hermione stroked more firmly, surprised to find his hair soft and pleasant to the touch, despite its appearance. Twining her fingers in the strands for a moment, she realized that she was nearly panting, and she let go quickly, holding her breath as his head lifted and their eyes met.

"How do you feel now?" he murmured, as he moved his fingers from her midsection, still holding her gaze.

"Warm." Was her reply, both unsure if they were talking about her wound or something much deeper.

"Good."

And he stood, breaking their connection as he put away the tin of salve and cleaned his hands with his wand.

"You'll be late for supper. I will see you afterwards for your potion."

Hermione felt rooted to the spot, and she nodded slowly.

"Thank you, sir. For everything, I mean."

Their eyes met again, and he gave a slow nod, lips slightly parted, breathing a bit heavily. She had touched him, and he wasn't sure what to think about the whole incident at all. But he did know that he needed space before he did something that they would both regret most heartily.

"You're welcome, Miss Granger. Enjoy your dinner." His face was shuttered, eyes blank.

And then she was out the door, and as it closed behind her, Severus sunk into his chair, head in his hands. His whole body felt as if it was on fire, and he knew he was in trouble.

He was actually beginning to find her presence _enjoyable_.

And her touch…

This was not good. At all.__


End file.
